Monthly Archives: November 2015

Yesterday, I quit. In the middle of the school year, I quit. After fourteen years in education, I quit. I. Quit. Quitting isn’t something I do, particularly when children are involved, so this is still quite difficult to think or talk about. It might seem an abrupt decision to some, but for those that know me well, you know this is something I have flirted with for a few years now. I think it started about five years ago…

I was teaching in an inner-city school in Memphis. I loved my principal. I loved my kids. I loved teaching. Now, of course, there were issues. Too much paperwork. Not enough hours in the day. Uninvolved parents. Disobedient children. District mandates that made no sense. Still, overall, I was happy being a teacher. I knew that I would either drop dead teaching or they would have to roll me out in…

Over the summer, The American Scholar published two lists of the 100 best American novels from 1770-1985. We’ve combined the lists and we’re asking: which ones have you read? What is missing and what should be included after 1985?

Peter Greene observes that there is a burgeoning number of “I Quit” letters by teachers. It has become a genre of its own. But he wants the world to know that he is not quitting.

Here is how his “I don’t quit” letter begins:

Dear Board of Education:

Just wanted you to know that I am not going any damn where.

Yes, a lot of people have worked hard to turn my job into something I barely recognize, and yes, I am on the butt end of a whole lot of terrible education policy, and yes, I am regularly instructed to commit educational malpractice in my classroom.

But here’s the thing– you don’t pay me nearly enough for me to do my job badly, on purpose.

I’m not going to make children miserable on purpose. I’m not going to waste valuable education time on purpose. I’m not going to teach…

But here’s the thing. I am a teacher. I am an education professional. I trained to do this job, and I have never stopped training and learning since I started on this path. This is my world. This is the work that I committed myself to. I live here, and that means I know more about this work than the edu-tourists just passing through.